Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox) novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162

“Hi,” I say, but then it hits me-it’s the middle of the night, and I shouldn’t be calling anyone this late, especially not someone I barely know. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll hang up the phone now.”

Before I can move my thumb to end the call, Luke’s voice comes through the line. “Don’t hang up.”

The way he says it-easy, like we talk all the time-makes me pause. I stare at the ceiling, biting my lip. There’s something comforting about his voice, like I’m not alone in this stupid mess I’ve found myself in.

“Talk to me,” Luke says.

“I dialed your number by mistake,” I lie, cringing at how lame it sounds. “Alright. I had a bad dream, so I picked up my phone and dialed the first number I saw.”

Luke laughs. “A bad dream, huh? Were there monsters?”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Something like that.”

There’s a brief pause, and I hear him moving on the other end, like he’s shifting around. “Well, since I’m awake, let me tell you a story to cheer you up. There was this time I got stuck in a bathroom at a nightclub.”

“Stuck in a bathroom?”

“Oh yeah, picture this,” he says. “I’m at this club, right? Trying to impress this girl, of course. You know, typical Friday night.”

“Typical for you, maybe.”

“Exactly,” he says, not missing a beat. “So I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, like a gentleman, and somehow-don’t ask me how-I manage to lock myself in the stall.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I’m in there, banging on the door like I’m some kind of prison escapee, but the music’s blasting, so no one can hear me. I’m thinking, “This is it. This is how I die.”

“Imagine dying in a bathroom stall… tragic end.”

“Right? Eventually, the janitor finds me, probably thinking I’m some drunk idiot. By the time I get out, the girl’s long gone.”

I shake my head, smiling. “Of course she was. She probably thought you were hiding from her.”

“Maybe,” Luke says. “But hey, I still looked good when I got out, so that’s what counts.”

I scoff. “Yeah, because that’s what’s important in life. Looking good while trapped in a bathroom.”

“You get me,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

I settle back against my pillows, the phone pressed to my ear. I realize he’s moving around a lot. I can hear it in the background-the faint shuffle of steps, the sound of things being moved.

“Where are you, by the way?” I ask. “It sounds like you’re pacing or something.”

“Just wrapping up some work,” he says.

“At the bar?”

There’s a pause. “No,” he replies but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he changes the topic. “So, bad dreams, huh? Want to tell me

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about it?”

I hesitate, chewing on my lip as I stare at the ceiling. I could lie, tell him it was just some random nightmare, but the truth is it wasn’t really about sleep at all. “It wasn’t a dream,” I say. “It’s just… everything with Ryan.”

He hums, not pushing further. “Yeah, I figured.”

I turn onto my side, clutching the blanket a little tighter, and for a moment, I consider hanging up and going back to sleep. This is dangerous territory, letting someone like Luke into my mess, even if it’s just for a conversation. But then the words just spill out, almost before I realize what I’m saying.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Sure,” Luke says. “Go ahead.”

“Ryan… he wants to meet you.” I say it quickly, as if that will somehow make it less awkward.